


Harry Potter and the Rocky Horror Potions Show

by therompingwillow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Dancing, Drarry, Dreams, Harry Potter Thinks Draco Malfoy is Up to Something, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Oral Sex, RHPS, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rocky Horror Picture Show - Freeform, Singing, musical numbers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-04 04:02:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21191234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therompingwillow/pseuds/therompingwillow
Summary: Harry knows Malfoy is up to something in the Room of Requirement, he just can’t figure out what. So when his dreams turn to trying to figure out the mystery, he can’t be blamed. It’s just he didn’t realize that they would be filled with Slytherin parties and Malfoy in a corset.But it’s Harry, so of course they are.





	1. There's A Light

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic! 
> 
> It's Harry Potter meets Rocky Horror Picture Show. I borrowed A LOT of the dialogue from the film. It's silly, but I hope you enjoy it. I had a great time writing it.

_Alright Malfoy,_ Harry thought, his green eyes pinned to the back of the blond’s head, _what are you doing in that room?_

The air in the Potions classroom was thick with a sickeningly sweet scent and sweat was beading at Harry’s temples. He wiped at his forehead and glanced over at his potion. It was beginning to bubble and boil, and Harry quickly lowered the flame. It wasn't supposed to get that hot. The Prince’s help only went so far, of course— you had to at least pay attention for the instructions to be helpful. But Harry was having trouble paying attention ever since he learned that Malfoy was whiling away his hours in the Room of Requirement.

Harry had spent most of the night before awake behind the drawn curtains of his four poster, staring at the Marauder’s Map and waiting for Malfoy to exit the Room. It was early morning when the Slytherin left, and he showed up to Potions with dark smudges under his eyes. Harry wondered if he looked the same. 

And now it was costing him his potions grade. Harry sighed, and it turned into a yawn. He had been doing so well, too, thanks to the Prince. 

Malfoy could not be ignored, though. He was working on something on Voldemort’s behalf, Harry knew, and Harry was closer than ever to figuring it out. He was just so close.

Another yawn forced its way through, and Harry’s eyes travelled the distance between Malfoy’s table and his own. His shoulders were hunched, and his blond head hung low over his textbook. He didn't look particularly successful, so Harry guessed he still had time. Maybe he would follow Malfoy to the Room? Harry put his chin in his hand and leaned on the tabletop, his eyes not leaving Malfoy. 

Yeah, maybe he could follow Malfoy. Maybe if he saw the door, he would be able to resummon it? That seemed plausible. 

He tried to stifle yet another yawn, but his body wouldn't allow it. He shuddered. He was so tired. If he wanted he could probably lay his head on the table and just... 

He lazily turned down the heat under his cauldron as it began to bubble once more. He was destroying his Potions reputation with this one but couldn't be arsed to care. Malfoy was more important. 

No, what Malfoy was doing in that room was more important. Malfoy could fuck right off, in his opinion. It was his _mission_ that Harry was concerned with. Harry felt his eyes fall back to the Slytherin, and he couldn’t help it when he thought, _Why, Malfoy? Why are you working with him?_

There was too much for Harry to do. It was the Room and Malfoy. It was the potion in front of him and the acrid and cloying steam rising from it. His eyes drooped, and his chin was heavy in his hand.

He just needed to know what Malfoy was up to. 

\---

Harry was standing next to Ginny in the pumpkin patch outside of Hagrid’s with a small gathering of people. Hagrid himself was there, and he was busy blubbering into a kerchief, standing tall amid the other guests in his woolly dress robes. Harry was wearing a set of black, fitted dress robes while Ginny wore a lavender dress that stopped right above the knee and a smile that lit up her face. Harry felt something inside of him dance at the sight. 

The ceremony was small but beautiful, and Harry couldn’t help but smile as he threw the temporary confetti at the newly married couple. Ron and Hermione returned his smile tenfold as they made their way to the restored Ford Anglia. 

They looked so happy together that Harry could barely stand it. He looked down at Ginny beside him and felt the small box in his pocket and knew that he wanted what his friends had. He just hoped Ginny wanted the same. 

Ron and Hermione climbed into the car, graceless and exhausted but beaming. They waved to the few remaining guests as they drove off towards Hogsmeade. And soon they were in the air, going up and up and up until they were gone. Harry waved until they disappeared. 

He realized that the crowd was dispersing, and Harry felt that this was his chance. He took Ginny’s hand and led her through the pumpkin patch.

“Didn’t Hermione look radiant today, Harry?” Ginny asked as she walked around one of the smaller pumpkins. “I can hardly believe that she’s part of the family now.”

“Ron’s a lucky guy, isn’t he?” Harry replied and put his hands in his pockets. He fussed with the small box inside. 

“Yes.”

“Everyone knows that Hermione will keep him in line.”

“Yes,” Ginny said again, following a step behind. 

“And Ron, well he’s a shoo-in for the Auror job he’s always wanted.”

“Yes,” Ginny said. 

“Hey Ginny?” Harry turned abruptly and asked. 

“Yes, Harry?” She looked up at him with an eagerness in her brown eyes. 

“I’ve got something to say.” 

“Uh huh?”

“I really love the,” Harry paused and looked into her eyes. “skillful way...you beat the other teams with your quidditch play.”

“Oh, Harry,” Ginny demurred and looked away. 

Harry, suddenly full of anxious energy, started making his way back towards Hagrid’s. Was he really going to do this? They hadn’t even... well. He came to the small stone steps leading to Hagrid’s door and turned back toward Ginny. He was surprised to see her directly behind him.

“The forest is deep, but it’s thinning,” he said. How was he supposed to explain how he felt for Ginny? He knew he wasn’t going to be able to find the words. 

“Ginny.” 

Harry turned in the direction of the set of voices and saw some lingering guests hovering around the stoop. He didn’t recognize them. Perhaps some of Hermione’s family?

He waited, but they were silent. He shrugged and continued, “The match may be hard, but we’re winning.”

“Ginny,” they said again. 

Harry turned to look at them, but they said no more. “So please, stop my head from spinning.”

“Ginny.”

Apparently this wasn’t a private conversation. “I’ve one thing to say and that’s dammit, Ginny, I love you.”

He watched as a smile so sweet it made him ache appeared on Ginny’s face. He had wanted this for a long time, hadn’t he? And now it was surely his. 

“And here’s a ring to prove that I’m no joker.” Harry fumbled with the tiny box. “There’s three ways that love can grow,” he said, confident now in his proposal. “That’s good, bad, or mediocre.” Harry had the ring in his hand then and was trying to fit it on Ginny’s trembling fingers. With an excited gesture, Ginny knocked the ring onto the stone beneath their feet. 

They both moved for it at the same time and, after some awkward fumbling, Ginny came away with the ring on her finger.

“Oh, G-I-N-N-Y! I love you so!” 

“Oh, I just can’t believe that we’ll marry,” she said, breathless as she made her way onto the grounds and towards Hogwarts. The sun was setting in the sky behind her.

“Harry.” So they were coming too, then. 

“Now we’re engaged and that’s scary,” she turned toward him.

“Harry.”

“My feelings for you, they won’t vary,” she assured him. 

“Harry.”

“I’ve one thing to say and that’s Harry, I’m mad for you, too.” 

When he caught up to her, he noticed the tears in her eyes. His heart swelled as he closed the distance between them, wrapping one arm around her slender shoulders and taking her hand in his, bringing them both to his chest. 

“There’s one thing left to do,” he whispered into the silence. Her eyes shone in the twilight. “We have to go tell Remus.” 

“What?” Ginny asked, obviously put out. He felt her shoulders sag. 

“We have to go tell Remus,” Harry insisted. “He’ll be so happy for us, Ginny. I know it.” 

“O-okay. Sure, Harry. We can go tell Remus.” Her eyes flicked over to the small group following them. “Those people are starting to creep me out, anyway.” 

Harry grinned and walked back towards Hogwarts. He didn’t let go of her hand. 

Once inside, they made their way to Remus’s office. Harry was elated. He was finally with Ginny, and Ron and Hermione were together, and everything was going to be just fine. The warmth of Ginny’s hand in his own told him as much. He felt at home, at last. 

Immediately following Harry’s joyous revelation, he heard the sound of sloshing water. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he looked up and saw the bottom of a floating wash basin. He didn’t have time to process what that could mean before it began to tip, dumping its contents unceremoniously onto their heads. A cackle filled the air. 

“PEEVES!” Harry shouted. If there was anything that could destroy his mood, it was the poltergeist. “Peeves, get out of here!” He was soaked through. 

“Oh!” came the sing-song voice, “It’s Potty wee Potter and his lady Red.” He laughed. “And you’re both all wet, I’ll dry you off, don’t you fret. Ha!” 

Harry jerked Ginny forward as Peeves dropped two towels that landed on the stone with a squelch. He shuddered at the thought of what they could be covered in and kept tugging Ginny along as he picked up speed. They made for the closest set of stairs. 

“Haaa haaa! Ha!” Peeves’ laughter followed them. Harry heard something _tinking_ off the stone and chanced a glance behind him. Peeves was throwing marbles at them. One bounced off of Harry’s shoulder, and he turned back, hoping that they could lose him in the halls. 

They weren’t so lucky. And after several flights of stairs and too many taunts from the poltergeist, Harry made a decision.

They arrived on the sixth floor, and Peeves’ voice carried down the hall. “Run, run away from me but what will you do if you can’t see?” He asked. And then all of the torches on the walls went out. 

“PEEVES!” Harry shouted again, “Professor Lupin will hear about this!” 

The ghost began howling. “Awoooooo! Awoooooo!”

“Harry, let’s just keep going. He isn’t going away any time soon.” Ginny stepped closer to him. 

“Let’s get to the seventh floor. I’ve got an idea and we’re nearly there.” He took her hand once more and started making his way toward the stairs, squinting through the darkness. The cloudy night didn’t provide much in the way of light.

They slowly made their way up the stairs. Once their feet were on even ground, Ginny began to hum, a nervous habit that she’d picked up from Luna. 

“_In this magic darkness of the blackest night,_” she started singing, her voice quiet and sweet. “_Burning bright, there’s a guiding star, no matter what or who you are._” Harry saw a single lit torch on the wall, halfway down the hall. 

“_There’s a light,_” Harry joined in. 

“_Over at the Requirement Room,_” sang Peeves from somewhere in the darkness. 

“_There’s a light,_” Harry and Ginny sang together, clammy hands entwined once again. 

“_Burning in a fireplace!_” the poltergeist contributed.

“_There’s a light, light in the darkness of everybody’s life,_” the young lovers chorused. 

“Come on Ginny, let’s go,” Harry whispered. “We’ll ask the Room for an owl to send for help.” 

“Oh Harry, let’s just go to the common room. I’m cold, and I’m exhausted,” Ginny complained as they reached the door. 

“We could get an owl and have someone deal with Peeves. You don’t want someone else coming through and being tormented, do you? Some poor first year, maybe?”

She sighed. “You’re right. Let’s just get this over with.”

Harry grinned in the dim light and reached up to knock on the door. 

\---

“Mr. Potter!” Harry heard Slughorn’s voice. He felt someone prod him in the shoulder. “Mr. Potter, wake up!” 

Harry jerked awake in a small puddle of drool on his potions worktable. He closed his eyes in a grimace and sighed. Of course he fell asleep in class. 

He sat up and opened his eyes. Hermione was standing across from him, brows knit in concern and arms crossed in disappointment. He would certainly be hearing about this later. 

“Mr. Potter, if you don’t mind, see me after class,” Professor Slughorn said gently. He sniffed at Harry’s potion and recoiled. “And clean up this mess posthaste.” The man turned and walked back to the front of the classroom with his nose still wrinkled in disgust. 

As Harry’s eyes followed the professor, he caught sight of Malfoy, his shoulders shaking in apparent mirth. Something churned in Harry’s stomach, and he narrowed his eyes at the back of the Slytherin’s head. _I’ll get you, Malfoy_, he promised silently, _I’ll figure you out_. 

At dinner that night, Hermione kept glancing at Harry when she thought he wouldn’t notice. 

“What is it, Hermione?” he asked. He knew what it was.

She opened her mouth as if to speak but then shut it. She searched his face for a moment and then said, “It doesn’t look like you slept at all last night.”

“I slept a bit.” 

“Yeah right, mate, I know for a fact that you didn’t fall asleep until this morning. Your _lumos_ is brighter than you think,” Ron muttered. 

“So I slept a bit then, didn’t I?” Harry countered. Ron was taking Hermione’s side more often than not these days. It was wearing on Harry’s already fragile nerves. 

“Harry,” Hermione started and then bit her lip and looked away. She sighed. “This isn’t about Malfoy, is it?” 

Harry stared. “Hermione,” he said, “he is up to something. I know he is, and I will find out what it is if it is the last bloody thing I do.” 

“Do you even hear yourself?” she asked, incredulous, and Harry winced. “You are obsessed, and you have to stop. You fell asleep in class today! _In class,_” she emphasized. 

Harry looked down at the table. “I know, I know. I’ll get some sleep tonight, I promise.” He didn’t like to lie to his friends, but when Hermione brings up classes, it’s best to just let things go. And besides, it wasn’t an outright lie, he would get some sleep. Probably. 

Hermione smiled a resigned smile and turned back to her food. Harry’s eyes flit over to the Slytherin table and searched for white-blond hair. He frowned. Malfoy was missing. 

Harry faked a wide yawn that, much to his displeasure and disappointment, morphed into a long and stuttering real one. “Actually, I think I’m gonna head back to the Tower now.”

Hermione gave him another look before giving a half-hearted goodbye, and Ron just clapped him on the shoulder. 

He grabbed his bag and let his feet guide him from the hall and towards Gryffindor Tower. His thoughts lingered on the dream he had earlier that day. 

It was… not what he was used to. But he would take the absurdity over the visions of Voldemort that normally danced in his head. He even laughed at the memory of the song he sang with Ginny. Who knew he could be so creative? 

And then he remembered knocking at the door to the Room of Requirement, and the smile disappeared from his face. Even his subconscious was obsessed. Maybe he should take Hermione’s advice and leave off Malfoy. 

Harry didn’t remember climbing through the portrait hole, but he realized that he was on the staircase leading to the boy’s dormitory. His fingers twitched towards the handle of his door. He would look at the map for a minute, just to make sure Malfoy was still visible. Then he would work on his Potions essay before going to bed. 

Just one look to make sure Malfoy wasn’t in the Room. 

His hand closed over the cool metal of the door handle, and he was beside his bed in an instant, kneeling in front of his trunk in another. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he intoned and tapped the blank parchment with his wand. He let out an impatient sigh as the ink appeared. After a minute of searching he realized that Malfoy was missing. 

_Alright Malfoy,_ Harry thought, _what are you doing in that room?_


	2. It's Astounding

Harry sat tucked away in a corner of the quiet library alone, his books piled up high on his small table. His eyes glazed over at the sheer number of books in front of him, but his task was important. So important that he had to hide it from his closest friends and steal away to the library in secret. He was not Hermione, however, and did not have her gift for research. Harry had just grabbed anything that mentioned Hogwarts and hoped that he would stumble across something about the Room of Requirement. 

It wasn’t going well, to say the least. He had spent the last half hour reading a book on magical buildings of the Middle Ages, but there was nothing about the Room of Requirement in the chapter on Hogwarts. He leaned back in his chair and let his head drop back. The ceiling of the library was covered in shadows, growing and shrinking with each flicker of the torch flames. 

It was really quite a peaceful place when one wasn’t being hounded about essays and charmswork and “Harry, could you keep it down, please?” It was a nice place to sit and think for a while. It wasn’t his fault that all he could think about was what could be on the other side of that door.

And what did it mean that his dreams led him there as well? Harry didn’t miss the similarities between his obsession with the Room of Requirement and Voldemort’s obsession with a different door. The comparison didn’t startle him like it once would have, perhaps he was too tired for that now. He stifled a yawn. He was exhausted, truth be told. He hadn’t slept much the night before after not finding Malfoy on the Marauder’s Map. 

His mind was still spinning with the possibilities of what Malfoy was up to, and he was dizzy from the effort. 

What was Malfoy doing that was so important that he no longer cared about showing Harry up at Quidditch and in Potions? What had Voldemort asked of him? Malfoy wouldn’t just give up— he was given a mission. 

Harry closed his eyes and let his mind work to unravel the mystery. 

There was no use fighting it. 

\---

Harry held Ginny and reached out to knock at the door to the Requirement Room. The darkness pressed in close around them, the single torch dimming under the weight of it. Ginny began to hum the same tune as before while they waited. Harry knocked again. They waited. 

Then the door swung in, creaking and heavy on its hinges, and a man appeared before them, shadows clinging to his sharp features. “Hello,” he said and stared. Harry recognized him. It was Goyle. 

Ginny’s pleasant humming quieted, and Harry felt her shiver beside him. They were still soaked through, and the castle was drafty, especially on these upper floors. They needed to get inside. 

“Hi,” Harry said, extending his hand, unsure about whether the man recognized him, “My name is Harry Potter.” Goyle did not take his hand, so Harry wrapped it around Ginny’s shoulders instead. “And this is Ginny Weasley, my fiancée.” He paused, waiting for his introduction to be returned. When that didn’t happen, he spoke up once more, “We’re hoping to borrow your owl to get word out to one of the professors. You see, Peeves is at it again, and we thought a professor could put a stop to it.” 

“You’re wet,” was all the Slytherin said. 

“Yes. It was Peeves,” Ginny explained, looking up at Harry with a worried expression. 

“Yes,” Harry agreed.

“Yes,” the man echoed.

A crashing noise to their left startled them, and they turned to see nothing in the darkness, though they knew it was the poltergeist. Ginny moved even closer to Harry. 

“I think, perhaps, you better both come inside.” Goyle stepped out of the doorway, and Harry and Ginny stepped inside. 

They were ushered through the interior doors and into a dusty foyer that had obviously once been grand. There were stairs to their right and a set of double doors straight ahead. An arched entryway was to their left, opening into another dusty and derelict room. The room was adorned in green stained glass that flaunted a serpent motif, and the banisters were black iron and serpentine. 

“Harry, I’m frightened,” Ginny whispered. “What sort of place is this?”

“Oh, it’s probably some Slytherin haunt for pureblood weirdos,” Harry whispered back. 

The door slammed behind them, and they turned quickly to see Goyle looking back at them. “This way,” he said and pushed through the two huddled close together. 

They followed him a few steps into the foyer before music and laughter reached their ears. 

“Are you having some sort of party?” Ginny asked.

The man, who Harry was sure was Goyle, nodded and looked pleased. “You’ve arrived on a rather special night. It’s one of the master’s affairs.”

“Oh, lucky him,” she replied with a small smile.

“You’re lucky! He’s lucky!” A voice to their right made them both jump. There was a woman sitting on the railing of the stairs dressed in an old fashioned, black-and-white maid’s outfit. It was Millicent Bulstrode. They hadn’t noticed her before. “I’m lucky! We’re all lucky!” She shouted and slid down the railing. She settled there for a moment, and something unspoken passed between her and the man. It put Harry on edge. 

Just then, a clock chimed midnight, and Goyle walked forward with an uneven gait to the clock. It was an odd design resembling a casket with a skull for the clock’s face. Ginny shifted nervously beside Harry as the man threw open the casket to reveal a full human skeleton. It was covered in cobwebs like the rest of the mansion. 

“It’s astounding,” Goyle spoke. A crazed grin broke across his familiar face. “Time is fleeting.” He moved to stand on the other side of the opened clock door. He looked back at them through the now empty clock face and said, “Madness takes it toll.” 

Harry was inclined to believe him. 

Millicent let out a breathy laugh directly behind Ginny, and she jumped in surprise. The man beckoned them forward through the archway. Harry obliged, hoping there was an owl in their near future. “But listen closely.”

“Not for very much longer!” The woman said behind them. They turned and watched as she ran a pointed, manicured nail through her frizzy hair. She let out a sigh. 

“I’ve got to keep control,” Goyle divulged with a sly smile. Harry hoped he could, whatever that meant. But his faith was misplaced, as the next thing out of the man’s mouth was half a scream and half a song. 

“_I remember_,” he began rocking back and forth, and Harry was reminded sharply of Dobby. “_Doing the TIME WARP!_” He ran across the room and around the back of what appeared to be the shaft for a lift. He stomped one of his feet on the ground. “_Drinking,_” he continued, “_those moments when…_” The man ran around the rest of the lift shaft. “_The blackness would hit me._” Harry took this opportunity to get farther away from the now obviously deranged man and dragged Ginny across the room to the opposite side of the lift. Goyle and Millicent joined together and sang, “_And the void would be calling._”

They turned, setting their sights on the Gryffindors and ran towards the young couple. Harry and Ginny had nowhere to go but through the set of double doors that were now behind them. In a near panic, Harry opened the doors and went through. 

The sight that awaited him was simply ridiculous. 

The dark interior of the prior rooms was gone— the large room they were now in was painted white but retained the snake motif. It appeared to be some sort of ballroom with a deep green carpet that ran through the center and ended at a throne. A throne? What sort of place was this?

And it seems they found the party; there were at least 15 people in the room in front of them, Harry guessed. They were all wearing dress robes of various colors— deep purples and reds and bright blues and yellows— and posed as if a dance was just interrupted. One woman, none other than Pansy Parkinson, was sitting off to the side in a suit jacket of silver sequins with a top hat that matched. Harry recognized enough of them to realize that he had stumbled into some sort of Slytherin party. 

He took this all in the instant before everyone sang in chorus: “_LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!_”

And frankly, Harry had no idea what to do. They all looked away from him in unison, and then their heads swung back, and they sang again, “_Let’s do the time warp again!_”

It seemed to be an invitation of sorts, but Harry still had no idea what they were expecting. Then, almost as if answering the unasked question, they began to sing.

“_It’s just a jump to the left._” They all jumped to the left with their hands held high, wiggling their fingers as they brought them down.

“_And then a step to the ri-i-i-ight,_” they continued their instruction while waving their arms some more. It was obvious that they’d practiced this. “_Put your hands on your hips._” And their arms stopped flailing and came to rest on their hips. “_You bring your knees in tight._” They all snapped to what Harry thought would be a very uncomfortable position, their knees tucked together with their feet out wide. 

“_But it’s the pelvic thrust,_” they explained as they jumped into a circle, all facing inwards, and, well, began to _thrust_. “_That really drives you insaaaaane._” 

“_Let’s do the time warp again!_” 

Harry realized then that this must be what Slytherins got up to in their free time. The thought barely passed through his mind before Ginny swooned in front of him. He caught her just in time.

“_Let’s do the time warp again!_”

Harry roused Ginny, and Millicent began to sing to her, “_It’s so dreamy, oh fantasy free me!_” She ran out to the floor of the ballroom. “_So you can’t see me, no, not at all._” She made her way into one the alcoves on the side of the room. This was all feeling very theatrical to Harry. 

But he had to admit, there was a part of him that was impressed. A small part, though. He mostly wanted to find an owl and get Peeves sorted. They were then escorted down the small set of stairs into the ballroom by Goyle. Or, was that Crabbe?

“_In another dimension,_” the maid sang and spun around a banister, “_with voyeuristic intention._” She set her chin on the railing. “_Well secluded, I see all._” Something in the woman’s voice made him believe her, and he suppressed a shudder. 

“_With a bit of a mind flip,_” sang the man who was definitely now Crabbe. 

“_You’re into the time slip,_” Millicent added as she jumped onto the alcove railing. 

“_And nothing can ever be the same,_” Crabbe continued and held out a small pastry to Harry. Harry politely declined the offer. 

Millicent stepped out from the railing and onto a table, standing far above both Harry and Ginny. “_You’re spaced out on sensation,_” she sang. 

“_Like you’re under sedation!_” Crabbe screamed. Ginny fainted again at the sound. 

“_Let’s do the time warp again! Let’s do the time warp again!_” The Slytherins sang out. 

Pansy began to sing, her high-pitched voice ringing off the marble. “_Well I was walking down the street just a-having a think, when a snake of a guy gave me an evil wink._” Harry was busy trying to wake Ginny so he hardly noticed how the room gathered around Pansy then, the party-goers crowding to hear her story. “_He shook-a me up, he took me by surprise. He had a Cleansweep 6, and the devil's eyes. He stared at me and I felt a change, time meant nothing, never would again._”

Everyone joined in once more. “_Let’s do the time warp again! Let’s do the time warp again!_” 

Harry was finally able to wake Ginny, and she immediately motioned that they should leave. He didn’t argue, though he was interested in seeing how this all ended. Surely they had some sort of finale planned. As they made their way back towards the door they entered through, the dancers continued to sing. “_It’s just a jump to the left. And then a step to the right._” They were doing the same uncomfortable move from before. “_Put your hands on your hips. You bring your knees in tight. But it’s the pelvic thrust._” They began to do that again as well. “_That really drives you insane._”

Harry and Ginny were able to make it to the steps leading to the door, and they were slowly making their way up them. Determined to remain inconspicuous, they kept their eyes on the dancers. 

“_Let’s do the time warp again! Let’s do the time warp again!_” 

Then Harry and Ginny were very much caught out as everyone, including Crabbe, Millicent, and Pansy, fell to the floor. 

Ginny nudged Harry with her elbow. “Say something,” she hissed. 

“Say!” Harry said, and everyone on the ground sat up. “Any of you know how to Muggle Shuffle?”

Ginny groaned beside him. “Harry, let’s just get out of here.”

Harry smiled at the crowd and said through his teeth, suddenly annoyed, “For Merlin’s sake, Ginny, get a grip on yourself.”

“B-But it seems so unhealthy here.”

“It’s a party, Ginny,” Harry explained as they backed out of the room, eyes not leaving the group of Slytherins. 

“Well, I want to go!”

“Well we can’t go anywhere until I get to an owl.”

“Then ask a house elf or someone,” Ginny whined. 

“Just a moment, Ginny, we don’t want to interrupt their celebration,” said Harry, nodding towards the now standing dancers. They were gathering near the center of the room and murmuring amongst themselves while watching them leave. 

“Look, I’m cold, I’m wet, and I’m just plain scared!” Ginny yelped as she backed into the lift that was in the center of the hall. Someone had just arrived in it. It appeared to be a man in a black high-collared cape. He had white blond hair. 

“I’m here,” said Harry. “There’s nothing to worry about.” 

How wrong he was. 

When the man turned around, Ginny shrieked and fell back. Pale grey eyes were lined in black, and it faded all the way up to his platinum brows. His lips were painted a dark red, stark against his pale skin. The white blond hair was long and loose and fell onto his forehead. 

It was Malfoy unlike Harry had ever seen him.

“_How do you do, I see you’ve met my,_” he arched a brow and eyed the fallen woman, “_faithful serving men._” Then his eyes fell on Harry, and he stepped up to stand directly in front of the man. “_They’re just a little brought down because,_” Malfoy was looking down at him through long eyelashes. Harry shivered. “_When you knocked they thought you were the trolley witch._” His pale eyes went wide, and he strutted from the elevator. 

“_Don’t get strung out, by the way I look,_” he sang as he walked down the green carpet. All of the dancers had aligned themselves on either side. “_Don’t judge a book by its cover._” 

Harry and Ginny, who was now back up on her feet, hurriedly followed the man back into the room.

The blond made it to the steps that led up to the silver throne. “_I’m not much of a man by the light of day,_” he confided as he climbed the steps and turned around. “_But by night I’m one hell of a lover,_” Malfoy sang. 

Harry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

Then Malfoy threw off the cape, and Harry’s stomach flipped. Malfoy was in black glittering heels with tights that went up to his thighs. He was wearing silk knickers, from what Harry could tell, and some sort of corset laced up the front. Huge white pearls hung around his neck. 

Harry couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

It was only when Harry’s eyes landed on his face that Harry realized Malfoy was staring back at him, hands on his hips. 

“_I’m just a sweet transvestite,_” the blond sang and took a step down, “_from Transexual,_” the man rolled his hips. “_Transylvania-ha-ha!_” Harry closed his mouth. Malfoy smirked. 

“_Let me show you around, maybe play you a sound,_” he said as he hopped off the dais and started to walk back towards Harry. “_You look like you’re both pretty groovy._” He slipped through Harry and Ginny and turned back to face them. “_Or if you want something visual,_” he sang as he placed a hand on Harry’s chest and started to push both him and Ginny towards the throne. Harry hoped the man couldn’t feel his heart beating wildly. “_That’s not too abysmal, we could take in one of those Viktor Krum matches._” 

Malfoy turned then and made his way over to get something to drink from a table that Harry hadn’t noticed before. Harry followed him.

“We’ll get back to the Tower,” he said. “Could we use your owl? We’re both in a bit of a hurry,” he explained, putting his arm around Ginny. Malfoy took a sip of whatever it was he poured for himself. Harry continued, “We’ll just get ready to leave and then take care of Peeves. We don’t want to be any worry.”

Malfoy threw his unfinished drink over his shoulder. “_You got caught by a ghost! Well...what d’ya know?_” He asked with an arched brow. “_Well babies, don’t you panic,_” he began to walk back up to his throne. “_By the light of the night, it’ll all seem alright. I’ll save you from that Peeves, satanic._” He turned around and was joined on the platform by Pansy, her silver sequins shining in the torchlight. They started shaking their hips in unison as Malfoy sang, “_I’m just a sweet transvestite, from Transexual, Transylvania-ha-ha._”

The blond sank down on his throne and threw his legs over the arm. He crossed them. Millicent appeared behind the throne with Goyle and Pansy on either side. 

“_Why don’t you stay for the night?_” Malfoy asked.

“_Night!_” his group snapped. 

“_Or maybe a bite?_” he suggested. 

“_Bite!_” they snapped again. 

Malfoy laid his head against the back of the throne. “_I could show you my favorite obsession. I’ve been making a guy, with dark skin and eyes and he’s good for relieving my tension._” 

Harry didn’t know what Malfoy meant when he said that he’d been making a guy, but he was sure he didn’t want to find out. 

“_I’m just a sweet transvestite,_” Malfoy sang as he pushed his way up slowly, slowly from his seat. “_From Transexual, Transylvania-ha-ha!_” He flung his head back and shouted “Hit it! Hit it!” before he strode down the center of the deep green carpet, pushing both Harry and Ginny to the side. 

Harry watched as Malfoy strutted back into the lift and spun to face him. “So,” Malfoy said, “come up to the lab.” He grinned at them, and Ginny looked up to Harry, who couldn’t take his eyes off the man in front of them. “And see what’s on the slab. I see you shiver with antici-” the man paused. 

Harry waited, breath caught, mouth dry, knees weak. 

“-pation.” Malfoy smirked when Ginny flinched. Harry’s heart was thumping in his ribcage. He swallowed hard. 

“_But maybe the wraith,_” Malfoy belted out. “_Isn’t really to blame. So I’ll remove the cause,_” the man chuckled, a sound deep in his throat. “_But not the symptom._” And then he slammed the gate to the lift. 

\---

The book Harry was reading slid off of his lap and landed on the ground with a _THWAP!_

Harry jumped in his seat, awakened by the noise, and he noticed three things immediately. He was still in the library. His neck was stiff. And so was his cock. 

He leaned forward and put his head on the table in front of him. _What had just happened?_

He had a dream about Malfoy. That wasn’t new necessarily, but the subject matter had definitely changed. He had never, he would never. But he had. And he was—

Oh, what a mess. 

Without another thought, Harry stood up, thanked Merlin for robes, and packed away his quill and parchment. He then turned on his heels and left the library.

He ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.


	3. Just A Little Bit Of Steam

Harry was fucked. 

He knew it the moment he entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that morning and saw Malfoy. Harry immediately felt his face heat as his mind filled with _images_. Of Malfoy. In a corset. And, well, he couldn’t get rid of them. 

So that night Harry stayed up as long as he could, avoiding sleep and any unwanted dreams of Malfoy, until Hermione was practically shoving him up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. 

He opened his eyes wide, barely realizing they were closed in the first place. He knew his dormmates all fell asleep some time ago. The air in the room was quiet and heavy, making him uncomfortable.

Harry never thought he would look at Malfoy and want to do anything other than punch the git. Yet there he was, fighting the twitch in his fingers when he thought of feeling the sharp bones of Malfoy’s hips through silk and the blatant desire that coursed through him at the thought of the blond’s round, red lips. Suddenly Malfoy’s smirk, that oh-so-familiar expression, filled Harry with something other than loathing. 

_Merlin_, Harry thought, _I’ve gone mad_. 

He felt his eyes close but he didn’t have the strength to open them. 

What was the difference between lying awake in bed _thinking_ about Malfoy and being asleep in bed _dreaming_ about Malfoy? 

Harry could no longer tell. 

\--- 

Harry and Ginny stood in their undergarments, somewhat inexplicably, in front of the lift in the hall. The mansion was eerily quiet— the guests had disappeared from the ballroom, and Crabbe, Millicent, and Pansy were tight-lipped about what awaited them in Malfoy’s lab. So they stood in silence. 

The lift arrived, and they filed in, crowding together in the small space, as Harry became very aware of his near nakedness. When they reached the floor of the lab, Harry’s eyes landed on Malfoy. He was still in his ridiculous heels but was now wearing a green lab coat similar to those they sometimes had to wear in Potions when they were working with particularly dangerous ingredients. He held a pair of pink rubber gloves in his hands, and they reminded Harry of the ones Aunt Petunia always had around. 

The door to the lift opened, and no one moved. Harry motioned for Ginny to exit first, and she did so after only a moment of hesitation. Malfoy’s lab was pink tile and marble, with great white statues depicting nude men in athletic poses along the wall. It was a round room with ramps that led up to a balcony along the circumference. Off to the opposite side was a green velvet curtain. The Slytherins from the ballroom were staring down at them from the balcony.

“Millicent,” Malfoy spoke, his voice cutting through the tense silence, “Pansy. Go and assist Goyle. I will entertain our guests.” He smiled at them. 

Malfoy walked toward Harry and extended his hand expectantly. 

“Harry Potter,” said Harry, upset that even Malfoy didn't recognize him in this Requirement Room. But he took his hand and shook it anyway. “And this is my fiancée, Ginny Weasel.” 

“Weasley,” Ginny chided. 

“Weasley,” Harry corrected. Malfoy grasped Ginny’s hand and kissed it lightly. 

“Enchanté,” he greeted. Ginny giggled. 

“Well, how nice,” Malfoy said, his grey eyes alight with mirth. “And what charming underclothes you both have. But here,” Crabbe handed Malfoy two white lab coats. “Put these on. They’ll make you feel less...vulnerable.” Malfoy handed them to Harry and Ginny, then walked towards the crowd of Slytherins and said, “It’s not often we receive visitors here, let alone offer them hospitality.”

Harry was shocked. “Hospitality?” He spluttered and stalked towards the man, shrugging into his lab coat. Of course, Malfoy would consider this hospitality. “All we wanted to do was use your owl, Merlin be damned, a reasonable request, which you’ve chosen to ignore!”

“Harry, don’t be ungrateful,” Ginny pleaded. 

“Ungrateful?” Harry was shouting at the back of Malfoy’s head. 

“How forceful you are, Harry. Such a perfect specimen of manhood.” Malfoy turned to look at him, and now they were standing too close. Harry could smell something sweet on the man’s breath. “So…” Malfoy’s eyes travelled down Harry’s body, over the smooth planes of his stomach to stop at his groin. “Dominant,” he finished. 

Harry could feel his face burning, and he quickly closed the front of his lab coat. 

“You must be awfully proud of him, Ginny.” Malfoy took a step toward the redhead and inserted himself between the two. 

“Well, yes I am,” she giggled again. Malfoy matched the sound with a throaty laugh. 

“Do you have any tattoos, Harry?” The blond’s attention was back on him. 

“Certainly not.” 

“Oh, well,” he turned his head to Ginny. “How ‘bout you?”

“Oh,” was all Ginny could manage before she began giggling once more. Was Malfoy _flirting_ with Ginny? 

And was she flirting back?

Goyle approached and spoke, “Everything is in readiness, master. We merely await your word.”

The playful expression disappeared from Malfoy’s face, and he turned toward the other man. He walked to the green curtain and, once there, spun to face the crowd. He spoke, and his voice filled the room. 

“Tonight, my brave and courageous Slytherins, you are to witness a new breakthrough in magical research,” Malfoy smiled with all his teeth, “And paradise is to be mine.” Gasps and murmurs ran through the small crowd as they applauded. Harry was also intrigued. What would paradise look like for Malfoy? 

He continued, “It was strange the way it happened...Suddenly you get a break.” Malfoy looked ahead, his eyes caught in some middle-distance, an expression of longing on his angular features. 

Pansy cut in with the same high-pitched voice from earlier, “Yes, yes we all know that you’re a genius Draco, can we just get on with it?”

Malfoy shot her a devastating look but relented. “Yes, I hold the secret to life itself, but I suppose we must _get on with it._” 

He pulled a face like he was going to roll his eyes but thought better of it, and made his way to stand in front of an oddly shaped piece of lab equipment, as far as Harry could tell. It was covered with several green sheets stitched together. 

He snapped one of his gloves into place. “You see, you are fortunate, for tonight is the night,” Malfoy began, snapping his other glove onto his hand, “that my beautiful creature is destined to be born!” He threw his hands out wide as the party-goers showered him with applause. Harry was nervous now at what could be under those sheets. He’d seen enough of Hagrid’s “beautiful” creatures… 

Malfoy turned to face the contraption and shouted “Now!”. Pansy and Millicent bent low and grabbed the sheets at the corners and, with a flourish, threw them back to reveal a tank with ladders on the sides. It was filled with water and floating inside was a human-shaped figure wrapped in bandages like some sort of mummy. 

Malfoy walked around the tank to face Harry, Ginny, and his adoring Slytherins. With a dramatic fling of his arm, he pointed at Crabbe. “Bring me the vials, Crabbe!” He had a crazed look in his eyes. 

The man slowly wheeled a cart with seven vials on it towards Malfoy. 

“Oh, Harry!” Ginny said, fear in her voice. 

“It’s alright, Ginny.” Harry replied and tried to keep his voice even. He didn’t think he managed. 

Once Crabbe arrived at the tank, Malfoy began to uncork the vials on the cart. After they were all opened, he started to pour them into the tank, one by one. The room was silent while he worked. The water that the body was suspended in changed all at once and it looked like...well, it looked like a rainbow. 

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. 

When Malfoy was finished with the vials, he shoved the cart away violently. He spoke a word that Harry didn’t catch, and there was a flash of light. Harry flinched away from the brightness, but after it was done, he noticed the figure in the tank moving. The person’s arms were reaching for the side of the tank and stood. The Slytherins applauded. 

Malfoy walked around the side of the tank and climbed up one of the ladders. Opposite him, Goyle did the same. Goyle reached over and pulled the bandages around the person’s face, and they fell away easily. Harry recognized the man now as Blaise Zabini. 

“Oh, Blaise!” Malfoy gasped and put a hand to his chest. 

The man grunted in response while Goyle helped him out of the tank. Once he stood on solid ground, mysteriously dry, Millicent and Pansy descended on him, unraveling the bandages wrapped around his body with speed. The more skin the two women revealed the hotter it became in the large lab, and just before they were finished unwrapping the man, Harry was convinced he wasn’t wearing a shred of clothing. 

But he was - a golden pair of shorts so small that Harry knew they must be called something else. Ginny took a step towards the man, and Harry held her back. 

Malfoy came to rest beside the dark-skinned man and leaned against the tank. “Oh, I just love success,” he said and smiled wide. 

“He’s a credit to your genius, master,” Crabbe intoned. 

“Yes,” Malfoy agreed. 

“A triumph of your will!” Millicent said. 

“Yes,” he agreed again. 

“He’s okay,” came Pansy’s high-pitched voice. The smile fell from Malfoy’s face as he turned to face the woman. 

“Okay?” He slapped one hand against the tank. “Okay?” He walked around and held a hand out to Blaise. “I think we can do better than that.” He dragged the man over to where Harry and Ginny were standing. 

“Now, Harry and Ginny,” Malfoy put a hand on Blaise’s shoulder, “what do you think of him?”

Ginny spoke, “Well, I don’t like men with _too many_ muscles.” She looked up at Harry. 

_Yeah_, Harry thought, _thanks for that one, Gin_. But standing close to the man now, Harry knew what she meant; Blaise was more than fit. He was, well... he was _very_ fit. He had to work for that body, or perhaps, it was given to him by Malfoy. But it was certainly not natural. Harry had never seen any man that looked quite like Blaise, rippling with every movement. 

“I didn’t make him for you!” Malfoy nearly spat at Ginny, and Harry was torn away from his musings. Malfoy took the man’s hand and began to walk over to the far side of the lab. “He carries the Lockhart seal of approval!” 

Harry didn’t know what that was but found himself giving his own approval. 

The two stopped in front of another piece of equipment covered in a green sheet and, with a playful grin, Malfoy let go of Blaise’s hand. He tore the sheets off to reveal a set of weights. Workout equipment. _Like he needs it_, thought Harry. 

“_A weakling weighing 98 pounds,_” Malfoy began to sing once again, and it sent a small thrill through Harry. He ignored it. “_Will get sand in his face, when kicked,_” Malfoy kicked one of his heeled feet out behind him, “_to the ground. And soon in the gym, with a determined chin, the sweat from his pores as he works for his cause,_” Malfoy attempted to pick up a set of dumbells then but staggered under their weight. Blaise took them from him and looked relieved to have something so heavy in his hands. 

Malfoy’s eyes danced over the other man, and Harry felt something unpleasant rage in his gut. He ignored that as well. “_Will make him glisten and gleam, and with massage,_” Malfoy reached out a single pink-gloved finger to touch Blaise. He began at his sternum but trailed his finger all the way down the man’s abdomen while he sang, “_and just a little bit of steeeeeeeam._” 

Harry shuddered from across the room. 

Malfoy snatched his hand back like he’d been burnt when he reached the top seam of Blaise’s golden shorts. He giggled. “_He’ll be pink and quite clean._” His grey eyes landed on Harry again, “_He’ll be a strong man, oh honey!_” Malfoy strutted back over to the lift but kept his eyes on Harry. “_But the wrong man!_” He sang. Malfoy leaned against the lift. 

Blaise set the weights down and followed Malfoy. He walked up to the blond and kept going until he stood too close. He raised his arm and leaned his elbow on the wall behind Malfoy so that his bicep was eye level with the other man.

Malfoy’s eyes snapped to Blaise, and Harry felt the loss of attention keenly.

“_Oh, but a deltoid,_” sang Malfoy as he started to walk towards Harry and Ginny, “_and a bicep. A hot groin._” As the words left his mouth, he hiked up the bottom of his lab coat so that when he jerked his hips Harry saw every movement. “_And a tricep, makes me, oooooh,_” Malfoy moaned and shook his head, “_shake. Makes me want to take Lockhart by the hand._”

“_In just seven days, oh baby,_” he sang and turned back towards Blaise. Millicent and Goyle stepped up to him and began to unfasten his lab coat. “_I can make you a man,_” he crooned as they slipped the lab coat off. He was still wearing the lingerie from the ballroom. 

When he began to strut, as Malfoy was wont to do, back to Blaise, Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the man’s arse and the way the silky fabric clung to it. He swallowed hard against the panic rising in him.

“_I want no dissension,_” the blond continued, “_Just dynamic tension._” He came to a stop in front of Blaise.

“_I’m a muscle fan!_” Ginny’s voice rang out from beside Harry, drawing his attention from the spectacle in front of him. Harry scowled at his fiancee’s words but kept quiet. He did just catch himself staring at Malfoy’s arse, and he wasn’t sure how that made him feel really, so best not to touch that subject at all.

At that interruption, Malfoy swung his head towards Ginny and narrowed his silver eyes, daring her to say more. When he was satisfied that she wouldn’t, he held a hand out to Blaise and sang, “_In just seven days, I can make you a man._” Malfoy led the man towards the center of the lab, and they faced the green curtains. “_Dig it, if you can!_” He continued, and linked arms with Blaise. “_In just seven days, I can make you a man._”

Millicent and Crabbe pulled back the curtains to reveal a large, four-poster bed and Malfoy began walking towards it, arm in arm with Blaise. Harry was shocked at the implication. Was he meant to stand here and watch? 

When he passed in front of Harry, Malfoy stopped and leaned in close, his lips hovering near the man’s ear. “Give me just one night and I can make _you_ a man,” he whispered. The words sent a shiver down Harry’s spine, and his green eyes went wide. Malfoy smirked and moved Blaise along towards the prepared bed. 

As Malfoy and Blaise crossed the threshold of their suite, Millicent and Goyle closed the curtains and turned on Harry and Ginny. They were stripped of their lab coats and hurried towards the lift. Harry suspected they didn’t want an audience for whatever it was Malfoy was getting up to with Blaise. 

Harry and Ginny were shown into different rooms, but Harry was so distracted by thoughts of Malfoy that he hardly noticed when they were separated. He only had time to wonder at what that meant for a second before a green silk robe was thrown in his face, and the door slammed shut. He was alone for the first time since this whole thing began.

The room he was in was small and minimally decorated, obviously meant for guests. After a cursory look around, Harry decided that he was as safe as he could be in a house full of Slytherins and sat on the edge of the bed. 

The entirety of his little adventure hit him then, once he'd had a moment to just _think_, and he couldn't decide whether he wanted to laugh or cry. _Or sleep_, he thought. He was tired, after all, and this whatever it was with Malfoy had just exhausted him utterly. He was due some rest. 

So he settled himself under the linens and realized rather suddenly that he still hadn't seen a damned owl when he heard the door to his room creak open. 

He sat up and reached for his glasses as he called out, “Ginny?” 

“Not likely, Potter.” 

“Malfoy.” Harry squinted through the darkness and could see the way the moonlight that shone into the room lit up Malfoy's skin and hair. He was leaning against the closed door, his face hidden in shadow. “What have you done with Ginny?”

“Nothing,” the intruder said in an amused drawl, “Why? Do you think I should?”

“Don’t you touch her, Malfoy.”

He pushed off the door and made his way over to where Harry lay in bed. Harry noticed that Malfoy was also in one of those green silk robes.

But Harry also noticed the way the fabric clung to and slid over his lithe form as Malfoy walked, slow and purposeful, towards him. The man's face was still mostly in shadow, but Harry tried to meet his eyes. Whatever it was he wanted, he probably expected Harry to be groggy and half asleep, but Harry was hyperaware and ready to rise to any challenge Malfoy may throw at him. He was still a Gryffindor, after all. 

He would not be bested by Malfoy. 

“Have you enjoyed yourself tonight, Harry?” Malfoy sat on the edge of the bed. 

“You've been very…” Harry paused, “hospitable.” That earned him one of those throaty chuckles Malfoy was so free with. Harry flushed and hoped that the other man wouldn't notice in the dark of the room.

“I'm glad you think so,” Malfoy said, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes were on Harry. He could feel the weight of his gaze, and he shrunk away from it. Uncomfortable feelings were rising in Harry's gut, things he didn't know how to deal with. Things like excitement and anticipation and want. 

“I never got to use your owl, you know,” Harry tried to divert his attention to something productive, something that could get him out of this bed with Malfoy. “Peeves could be wreaking havoc just outside.” 

Malfoy waved a hand. “Someone else will take care of Peeves.” He laid his hand on the bed beside Harry's and moved closer. “I'm more interested in taking care of you.”

The admission sent Harry's heart racing. His prick was interested now as well, reacting enthusiastically to Malfoy’s proximity and the promise of more. Harry flinched when his hand was covered by Malfoy’s. 

“I've seen the way you look at me, Harry. I know you want this,” Malfoy whispered, leaning even closer to Harry. “It’s okay to want things, you know,” he said, and Harry could barely hear him over the thundering of his heart in his chest. Malfoy was so close now that his breath was hot on Harry's ear, his lips so close to his skin that he could hardly stand it. “It’s okay to enjoy them too.”

Then Malfoy pressed his lips to the skin of Harry's neck, and Harry froze, terrified of what it meant that he wanted this. He wanted it so badly. 

So he didn't stop Malfoy as he nipped and licked and sucked his way down Harry's neck. He didn't stop him when he gently lowered Harry down onto the pillows and positioned himself over him. 

Harry couldn't stop the moan that escaped through his lips when Malfoy ran a hand over his exposed chest, leaving a trail of too-hot skin in its wake. He couldn't help but arch into Malfoy when his tongue flicked over Harry’s nipple. Harry's eyes fluttered closed as he gave himself over to the sensation of the other man's mouth on his body, and he couldn't believe that it was Malfoy that was making him feel this way. 

He had abandoned his wits for pleasure, and it felt _good_. 

Harry started when Malfoy dipped his hand below the waistband of his pants and grabbed hold of his already hard prick. “Mmm, see Potter, you do want this, don't you?”

Malfoy started to stroke Harry and coaxed another moan from his lips. The situation fully hit Harry then, and he realized that no one had ever touched him like this, not even Ginny. 

Oh. _Ginny_.

“Ginny!” Harry cried out as he propped himself up on his elbows. Malfoy’s hand fell away.

“No, Harry. Ginny is probably asleep by now. Do you want her to see you like _this?_” Malfoy gestured to his now naked body and settled back on his knees between Harry's legs. Harry didn't remember taking off his pants, but they were nowhere to be seen. “Besides,” he continued, “ we were just getting to the good part.”

Malfoy leaned over and pressed soft kisses to Harry's stomach. Harry shuddered at the contact and let his head fall back, his eyes falling shut. “B-but,” he protested. 

A hot hand ran over the inside of his thigh and another closed around Harry's cock. Malfoy laughed again, that same throaty, irresistible sound, and it ghosted over the sensitive skin of his prick. All thoughts of protest fled from Harry's mind. 

He wanted this. He wanted Malfoy. 

Then the blond took him in his mouth, and all coherent thought left Harry. He was reduced to sensation; the wet heat of Malfoy's mouth around his cock, sucking and swallowing him down. It was better than Harry could have imagined.

So much so that he could possibly be imagining it. He picked his head up and looked down. Malfoy was there, kneeling between his legs, one hand on the bed with Harry's cock in his mouth. He watched as the white blond head bobbed up and down, those smirking lips stretched over him, wet sounds escaping when Malfoy moved up his shaft. It was nearly too much for Harry to take. 

He reached out a tentative hand, wanting to tangle his fingers in Malfoy's hair but stopped when Malfoy took in all of him, his cock disappearing into Malfoy’s mouth with a practised ease. 

And that _was_ too much for Harry to take.

\---

Harry awoke with a start, his heart beating an erratic rhythm in his chest, and he realized almost immediately that he had come in his sleep. 

Because he was dreaming of Malfoy. 

Because he was dreaming of Malfoy sucking him off. 

Harry reached for his glasses and then his wand. He muttered a quick cleaning spell and laid back in his four poster, not as panicked as he felt he should be. 

Just because he was dreaming about Malfoy every night didn't mean that Harry was attracted to him. It didn't mean that Harry wanted him. Besides, Ginny was in the dreams as well. 

Well, maybe that wasn't the best road to go down. 

He knew he wouldn't get any more sleep, not with the images of Malfoy between his legs replaying in his mind. 

Harry sighed, and for just a moment, he wondered what Malfoy dreamed about. He wondered if he had ever dreamed of Harry. He wondered if it mattered at all. He didn't think it did.


	4. Dinner Is Prepared

Harry couldn't fall asleep after his dream about Malfoy, so it was with great effort that he dragged himself to Potions the next day. 

It was with a greater effort that he ignored Malfoy sitting in the front of the classroom taking notes, his black-feathered quill dancing across the parchment with a familiarity that was driving Harry mad. Didn't he know he could be doing better things with those hands? More productive things?

Merlin, where had that come from. 

_Right, I'm to be ignoring him._

Harry straightened on his stool, fought back a yawn, and looked to Slughorn just as he waved a hand causing the blackboard to go blank. Harry hadn't gotten any of that down. After a surreptitious glance at Ron's messy notes, he decided that he would copy them later, so he propped his elbow on the table and set his chin in his hand. There was no use taking notes halfway through, after all. Ignoring Malfoy took up all of his attention anyway. 

The dream had not bothered Harry as much as he imagined something like that would. Perhaps it was because he was so exhausted that staying awake took all of his concentration, but he reasoned that it wasn't like he could control his dreams, really. The last few nights were evidence enough of that. 

Which isn't to say that Harry was _unbothered_ by his dream of Malfoy's mouth around his prick. It was just that Malfoy seemed so unaffected by it all. And, of course, this made sense because it was all happening in Harry’s head, but that seemed unfair to Harry. Somehow.

His eyes slowly drifted towards the Slytherin, and a dull comprehension that he was not ignoring Malfoy crept into his mind. He had never really been able to ignore the prat, if he thought about it. He was usually looking for that white-blond head in the Great Hall or across a classroom. Sometimes he found himself sneering over at Malfoy without even meaning to or, like now, just checking to make sure he was still there. 

So he looked. His eyes roamed over Malfoy's hunched shoulders, and he couldn't help but frown. Ron looked over at him, and Harry ignored his friend’s concern. Malfoy was starting to look desperate— like the world was falling apart around him. But then he was in Harry's dreams, prancing around like he owned the place, like he belonged there, just as cocky and frustrating and irresistible as he always was. Harry wanted that Malfoy back, he wanted-

_Oh. Oh no._ Harry swallowed thickly, his mouth too dry. 

_No._ He put his head down on his work table after slowly folding his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his thoughts go. He wanted something to happen, something that made no sense. His stomach twisted uncomfortably with anger and confusion, lust and regret. It couldn't happen. 

Ron nudged him, and Harry only grunted in return. If he stayed like this maybe they would think he was sick. He felt it anyway. 

When had this happened? And what could he even do about it? He squeezed his eyes so tightly that lights bloomed behind them, and he wished for sleep.

\---

“Mmm, Harry,” Malfoy moaned into the skin of Harry’s neck, his hot breath sending chills down Harry's spine. “Harry, Harry, Harry,” he said punctuating each utterance with an open-mouthed kiss as he moved across Harry’s body. “This is what you want, isn’t it? This is what you've always wanted.” He sat back on his heels and looked down at Harry. 

He fidgeted under the scrutiny even though the room was dark, lit only by what little moonlight could pass through the drawn curtains. The words that Malfoy spoke were true, Harry knew, more true than he could admit to himself. When he met Malfoy's eyes he couldn't stop himself from saying yes. Malfoy grinned and slowly bent over Harry once again. 

Before his lips could touch Harry, someone was pounding on the bedroom door. “Master, Blaise has broken his chains and vanished,” came the muffled voice of Crabbe (or maybe Goyle, Harry couldn’t tell either way). “The new playmate is loose and somewhere in the Requirement Room.”

“Oh honestly,” Malfoy complained to Harry with a roll of his eyes and a grin. “They’re hopeless without me.” He raised his voice so he could be heard through the door, “Coming!” He smirked at that. His eyes flicked back to Harry. “Or we would be…” He sighed and got out of bed. “Get up then, you’re coming with us.” 

Harry didn’t argue and thought that perhaps whatever Malfoy was going to do would be better than sitting alone with his thoughts. And if he was exploring the Requirement Room maybe he would run into that owl…

Malfoy opened one of the wardrobes in the room and began to dress in something similar to what he was wearing earlier in the ballroom. Harry dressed quickly in his underpants and slipped the green robe on while he waited. Malfoy shrugged into a leather jacket and opened the door wide. Goyle stood there, waiting patiently. 

“You idiot!” Malfoy shrieked. “How did it happen? You were to be _watching!_ And I know he’s easy to watch, I made him! I know how good he looks! You imbecile!” 

Goyle could barely get a word in, but when Malfoy slowed he spoke up, “I was only away for a minute, master.” 

“Well, see if you can’t find him, hmmm?” Malfoy gestured down the hall. “We’ll meet back in the lab.” 

And so Malfoy and Harry set off in the opposite direction, searching rooms that Harry could hardly comprehend. One looked like the largest storage closet Harry had ever seen, another that was so full of smoke that Malfoy immediately began coughing after opening the heavy door and started muttering something about Pansy and Millicent, and another that was done up in the style of the first floor ballroom but was red and gold. Malfoy just looked at Harry unapologetically and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

By the time they ended up back in the lab, Crabbe was already there, fiddling with some dials on the wall. Harry couldn’t imagine what they were used for. When they stepped from the lift, Crabbe straightened and said, “Master, we have a visitor.”

Malfoy raised a brow. “Well, who is it?”

“Professor Lupin.”

“And where is he?”

Crabbe shrugged. 

“You idiot! How did this happen? You’ve not only lost my Blaise, but you lost a _guest_ as well?” He was shrieking again. “I swear you two do nothing right!”

“You said Professor Lupin?” Harry asked once he was sure Malfoy would remain silent. Goyle nodded his head. Malfoy chuckled and spun to face Harry with a calculating look in his eyes. 

“You know the Professor, don’t you Harry?” Malfoy took a step toward him. 

“I most certainly do,” said Harry brightly. “He happens to be an old friend of mine.” 

“Oh,” Malfoy laughed. “Oh, Harry. I see now. So this wasn’t simply a chance meeting. You came here with a purpose,” he snarled, all traces of amusement gone. 

“I- I told you,” Harry stammered, “Peeves forced us here. I was telling you the truth.”

Malfoy sneered. “I know what you told me, Harry. But Professor Lupin? I know him.”

“Of course you do, he was our Defense Professor.” 

“Aha! So he is a professor. And it is the responsibility of professors to break up any parties, is it not?” Malfoy had closed in on Harry and was poking him in the chest. “Parties such as this one, perhaps?” 

Harry took a step back. “It might be. I don’t know!”

“Admit it!” Malfoy stepped forward. “You are working with him. He sent you in to scope out the place, didn’t he?” 

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I thought I would be able to find you,” came the cool voice of Professor Lupin. Harry turned toward the visitor and smiled wide. “But I must say, this place is much larger than it seems.”

“Professor Lupin!” Malfoy turned towards him, a crazed smile splitting his features. “What brings you here?” He ran a hand through his loose hair in what Harry knew to be a nervous gesture. 

“Well I was in the area, taking care of Peeves, and heard some...unusual noises coming from a door I had never seen before. So, naturally, I rang the doorbell, and Mr. Goyle here answered, and now here we are!” He smiled at Harry. “And Harry, it’s such a surprise to see you. What are you doing here?”

“Ha!” Malfoy interjected, “Ha ha! You know what he is doing here, don’t you Professor? It was part of your plan, was it not?” He took a step forward and his grey eyes narrowed on the Professor. It was less intimidating than he might have wished, with him still dressed in lingerie and a leather jacket. “That he and his Weasel should check the layout for you? Well, unfortunately for you all, the plans are to be changed.” He grinned. “I hope you’re adaptable, Professor Lupin. I know Harry is.” His eyes flicked over to Harry and lingered for just a moment before he looked away. Harry felt his face warm at the implication. 

“I can assure you, Mr. Malfoy, that Harry’s presence here comes as a complete surprise to me. I came here to take care of Peeves. That is all.”

“Peeves!” Harry spoke up, as if he’d just remembered the reason he himself arrived at the Requirement Room. “I’ve seen him!” He took a step forward but a withering look from Malfoy stopped him in his tracks. 

“Peeves?” Malfoy asked. “What do you know of Peeves, Professor Lupin?”

“I happen to know a great deal about a lot of things,” he said with a certain professorial smugness. 

From somewhere off to Harry’s right came a snort of laughter that was quickly silenced. 

That sounded like… 

Malfoy walked towards the tank that they first saw Blaise in and Harry noticed shapes huddled under the green fabric inside. Malfoy reached a hand in to throw off the sheets. Before he could, Ginny gasped and stood up, the sheets wrapped around her naked form. Blaise stood next to her, the sheets around his waist. 

“Ginny!” Professor Lupin cried, obviously surprised to find yet another Gryffindor among these Slytherins. 

“Professor Lupin!” Ginny shrieked, her nakedness and infidelity on display in such a way made Harry’s face heat and his heart sink. 

“Ginny!” gasped Harry, shocked to see his fiancee in such a compromising position, his mind carefully avoiding his own position just an hour ago. 

“Harry!” squealed Ginny, worry apparent in her big, brown eyes. 

“Blaise!” Malfoy interrupted, standing next to his creation that had turned from him so quickly. 

Nothing was going quite to plan. All Harry had wanted was an owl. 

“Ginny!” Lupin exclaimed. 

“Professor Lupin!” replied Ginny. 

“Ginny!” Harry shouted.

“Harry!” Ginny pleaded.

“Blaise!” admonished Malfoy. 

“Ginny!”

“Professor Lupin!” 

“Ginny!”

“Harry!” 

“Blaise!” Malfoy straightened. “Listen! I made you and I can break you just as easily,” he threatened Blaise.

_BWANG!_ Harry jumped at the sound and looked to the balcony. Millicent was there, holding a gong in one hand and a baton in the other. She stretched her arms out wide and cried, “Dinner is prepared!” 

Malfoy rolled his eyes and said, “Excellent. And under the circumstances,” he glared at Ginny, “formal dress it to be optional.” He made his way over to the lift and slammed the gate, disappearing through the floor. 

Harry couldn’t look at Ginny while she fumbled with her underclothes and the sheet. He couldn’t make eye contact with Lupin either, remembering that he and Ginny were on their way to tell him that they had gotten engaged mere hours ago. 

The awkwardness of the situation weighing heavily on him, Harry sighed and looked up to the ceiling. “I’ll go and find the dining room, then.”

“I’ll join you, Harry,” Professor Lupin said and followed Harry over to the lift. They all stood in an awkward silence as they waited for it to come and the silence continued on the ride down. Once the door opened on the first floor, Harry pointed down one of the halls. 

“I think I remember seeing a dining table this way.” He started walking towards the door he thought could lead to a formal dining room, again avoiding eye contact with his former professor.

“So, Harry, what exactly are you doing here?” 

Harry didn’t want to answer but replied, “Well, Ginny and I were on our way to you when Peeves attacked us. And I didn’t think he would follow us in here. I didn’t expect to find Malfoy and everyone else.” 

“Well, we won’t have to worry about Peeves for a while, I’ve made sure of that.” Lupin followed Harry down the hall. “He’s a mischievous bastard, isn’t he, Harry?” 

“That he is.”

“Why were you on your way to see me?” the professor asked. “When you were attacked by Peeves,” he clarified when Harry didn’t respond. 

Harry came to a stop outside of a door and turned to look at Professor Lupin. With a sad smile, Harry shook his head and opened the door to reveal a dimly lit room with a long, dark dining table in the middle. Malfoy was sitting at the head of the table, his chin raised towards the door, a serious look on his pointed face. He was wearing something with long, black sleeves that glittered in the candlelight. His grey eyes met Harry's and Harry said in a quiet voice, “I don’t think it matters much anymore.”

Malfoy smiled at them. “Come, have a seat.” He gestured to the empty seats at the table. Only then did Harry notice Pansy sitting to the man’s left, wearing a set of men’s striped pyjamas. Harry followed Lupin in and left the door open to make it easier for Ginny and Blaise to find. Lupin took the seat opposite of Malfoy. 

“Harry,” Malfoy called and then looked to the chair next to him and back to Harry. He got the hint and took the seat next to Malfoy. They sat in silence while Millicent and Crabbe set the table, bustling in and out of another set of doors next to the room’s fireplace. 

Malfoy was alternating between a small smile and pursed lips and Harry wondered what had him so concerned, the presence of the professor or the absence of Blaise. 

“_Where_ could they be?” Malfoy interrupted Harry’s thoughts with a sharp look that softened when he realized that Harry had been staring. “Oh, but I suppose we could just continue on without them.”

“I think I hear them, this must be it.” Ginny’s voice carried in from just outside the open door. Harry looked over in time to see her enter, her underskirt ripped to pieces and hair disheveled. He quickly looked down to his empty plate. She took the seat next to him while Blaise sat across from her. 

They all sat in a tense silence while they were served by Millicent and Goyle. Once everyone had a glass of red wine and food in front of them, Malfoy stood. 

“A toast.” He raised his glass. “To the poltergeist who brought us all together.”

“To the poltergeist,” Harry said and Professor Lupin and the others followed and raised their glasses. Harry doubted that the Hogwarts haunt had ever been toasted or spoken of in respectable company, yet here they were. 

“And a happy birthday to Blaise,” Malfoy said, looking to Blaise with a light in his eyes that made Harry queasy. Everyone at the table echoed his well-wishes, though Professor Lupin looked uncomfortable. 

After Malfoy sat down, he turned his gaze on Professor Lupin. “So, you came here to discuss Peeves then?” he asked as he speared a piece of roast chicken on the end of his fork. 

“Actually,” Lupin corrected, “I came here to make sure Peeves wasn’t up to something, which he obviously was.” The professor, somewhat reluctantly, picked up his utensils. “But I’ve put a stop to that now. He won’t be bothering anyone else tonight.” 

“Professor Lupin!” Ginny gasped. 

“Go on, Professor Lupin,” Malfoy urged. “Or should I say, Professor Moony?” He smirked.

“Now just what exactly are you implying, Malfoy?” Harry asked, banging his fists on the table. 

“That’s quite all right!” Lupin shouted. “That’s quite all right, Harry.” He cleared his throat. 

And then he did something Harry never thought he would see. Professor Lupin began to sing. 

“_From the day that he died,_” he leaned in over the table like he was sharing a secret, “_He’s been trouble. He is the thorn in our Hogwarts’ side. We try in vain,_” he looked to Ginny and said, “But he never causes nothing but pain.” She nodded in agreement. “_He plays jokes on passers-by._

“_From the day she was built,_” he continued in his baritone, “_All he wanted was to haunt her halls and to terrorize._” He leaned back in his chair, “_Working on heists, he is a lowdown, rude poltergeist, making all the kids scream and cry._”

He jumped forward and slapped his hands down on the table, his fingers splayed wide as he hunched over and looked from Harry to Malfoy and then finally to Pansy. “_When Peeves says he’ll be spying from the eaves, you know he is a no-good ghost._” He did a sort of jig with his shoulders. Harry’s mouth was agape. “_But when he threatens teachers with vile creatures…_”

Draco shrugged a shoulder. “What a guy.”

“Makes you cry,” Ginny sniffed. 

“So a toast,” Lupin said. He sighed heavily and tucked a hand into the pockets of his robes. “_But he must have been drawn,_” he continued, pulling out some parchment, “_Into something, making him warn me in a note that reads…_”

Malfoy seemed interested in this information, but before he could comment, Ginny and Blaise moved at the same moment, hurrying toward Professor Lupin with curiosity alight in their eyes. “What’s it say, what’s it say?” they chorused. Harry was surprised to find himself on the edge of his seat. 

“Students out of bed,” Lupin read, “Oh worry, for they’ve been mislead. _They mustn’t carry on with their party!_” 

Well, shit. It looked like Professor Lupin was there to shut down Malfoy’s party all along. But the professor wasn’t done yet. Ginny and Blaise returned to their seats as he continued.

“_When Peeves says he’ll be spying from the eaves, you know he is a no-good ghost. But when he threatens teachers with vile creatures…_”

“What a guy,” Draco mocked.

Ginny drew her face into a pout, “Makes you cry.”

Lupin nodded his head gravely, “So a toast.” 

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence and Harry could feel the tension coming from Malfoy. So he was not surprised when Malfoy stood, sending his chair screeching across the floor. He slapped his hands on the dark wood and leaned towards Professor Lupin. “What would you have me say, hmm? That Peeves was working for me the whole time?” Malfoy sneered. “Of course he was. We had an agreement. But now you’ve come in and ruined everything, haven’t you, Professor? No more parties for us.”

The professor paled at the confession. “Now, listen here Malfoy. I never intended to shut anything down, but if you’ve just admitted to working with Peeves to...what exactly? Lure students to your parties? Then I’m sorry but I will have to take action against you.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, sat back in his chair, and looked to Millicent standing beside him. He nodded his head once and Professor Lupin was suddenly impossibly still. Harry looked between the two, confused. 

“Malfoy, did you just,” Harry began, “Did you just stun the professor?”

“Perhaps,” Malfoy said, raising his wine to his upturned lips. “What’s it to you?”

Harry spluttered and tried to stand but found that the couldn’t. “Malfoy, I’m stuck to my chair.” 

“Well would you look at that. I simply can’t imagine why that would be the case.” He smiled at Harry, his grey eyes bright with mischief. Harry felt his heart stutter.

“Let us go, Malfoy!” Ginny shrieked, struggling to stand. “We only wanted to get away from Peeves and you’ve gone and ruined _everything!_” 

“Take my advice. You better ease up, Ginny Weasel,” Malfoy lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Harry, I can’t get up!” Ginny continued, ignoring Malfoy’s advice. “It’s as if I’m glued to the chair!”

“You are!” Malfoy shouted and stood once more. “So quake with fear, you tiny fools!”

“We’re trapped,” lamented Ginny. 

Malfoy laughed at her distress. “It’s something you’ll get used to, a mental mind-fuck can be nice.” He shrugged and glanced once more to Millicent. Harry noticed that Pansy was unamused by this but couldn’t leave either. He walked around to Ginny’s seat and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. “You better ease up, Ginny Weasel. You better ease up, build your needs up.” He shot Harry a smoldering glare before whispering to Ginny, “You better ease up-”

“STOOOOP!” she cried out. 

Malfoy backed away from her struggling. “Don’t get hot and flustered.” He returned to his seat next to Harry. 

“You’re a Slytherin, but you better not try to hurt her, Malfoy.” Harry said quietly, his eyes pleading. 

Malfoy sighed and looked to Millicent. Pansy opened her mouth to say something but Malfoy nodded sharply before she could and everyone around the dining table stilled. 

Malfoy sat at the head of the table looking somber. “It’s not easy having a good time,” he said, “Even smiling makes my face ache.” 

They all sat in silence for a moment, Malfoy staring at Harry’s silent form, an inquisitive gleam in his grey eyes. “Come,” he spoke after a time, “It’s time for the floor show.”

\---

Harry didn’t wake up all at once. The world came to him in waves. First was the sounds of people shuffling, rifling through papers and closing textbooks. Then came the feeling of the desk under his cheek, harsh and unrelenting but not altogether unpleasant. It was almost familiar. 

“Let him sleep, Hermione, he obviously needs it.”

“Ron, we told Professor Slughorn that we would escort him to the Hospital Wing.”

Harry opened his eyes and groaned when the Potions Classroom came into focus. “Not again.”

“Sorry mate, but once you fell asleep there was no waking you up. Eventually Slughorn noticed and the wan-”

“He took ten points from Gryffindor, Harry,” Hermione cut off Ron. “And told us to take you to see Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry started to stuff his things in his bag. “I don't need to go to the Hospital Wing,” he complained. 

“This is the second time you’ve fallen asleep in his class this week. Be happy you don't have detention,” Hermione snapped. Harry glared at her. 

“And I suppose you think I deserve it?”

“Don’t start with me, Harry. You know how I feel about this…” she waved her hands, “obsession of yours.” 

“It’s not like that,” Harry insisted as he stood, his eyes flicking over to where Malfoy had been sitting just minutes ago. Hermione laughed but there was little joy in it. 

Harry almost flinched when Ron put his hand on his shoulder. “Come on then, we've got to drop you off before Transfiguration.”


	5. Don't Dream It

Harry sat alone in the Hospital Wing, leaning back on lumpy pillows staring at the unfocused foot of the bed he sat on. He took off his glasses when he first arrived and Madam Pomfrey began poking and prodding him for answers about his sleeping habits. She asked about his dreams and he responded that, yes, he had been having vivid dreams. But when she assumed he was talking about those dreams, Harry didn’t correct her. He could barely admit to himself that his dreams were of his own creation. He would never be able to say that out loud. 

So he let her think he was having Voldemort visions again because, well, why the hell not? 

Madam Pomfrey had given him such a pitying look that Harry nearly walked out right then; but when she mentioned a dose of Dreamless Sleep and some honest rest, he decided to stay. No dreams at all? An actual respite from this week of madness? Yes, he would definitely stay for that. 

No more strange Slytherin parties. No more ridiculous songs. No more Malfoy confusing everything. No more Malfoy at all. 

It was that harsh thought echoing around in Harry's mind so loud that made him second guess his initial decision. Did he want these dreams to end? Were they the only way he could hope to have...to have Malfoy? And was that what he even wanted? 

He sighed and grabbed for the bottle on his bedside table. It was only one night and maybe he would be able to think after some rest. 

He downed the potion. 

\---

Harry was standing on a stage, he knew. He could see the back of the heavy curtain and the wooden floor beneath him. He didn’t remember how he got onto the stage and was sure that he didn’t walk there of his own volition. So it must have been Malfoy. Why he was on a stage, well, that was a different question. 

Then Malfoy was in front of him, slinging a black feather boa over his shoulders and adjusting it until he deemed it workable. The blond grinned at Harry and then slapped him on his arse as he moved on to whoever was next in line. Harry wondered at the skin on skin contact and tried to strain his eyes so he could see what he was wearing. Whatever he had on was tight around his chest and stomach and didn’t reach his shoulders. His arse felt mostly bare and his feet were uncomfortable. Harry was certainly no longer in his Slytherin-green robe and familiar underpants. He blamed Malfoy for that, too. 

Harry didn’t have the presence of mind to worry about what was on the other side of the heavy curtain, he was too occupied trying to figure out what he was wearing to consider who he might be wearing it for. He was horrified and then subsequently relieved when the curtain opened to reveal an empty auditorium. 

There were a few moments of silence after the curtain opened, allowing Harry to take in the absurdity of his situation before music filled the hall. Pansy started moving to Harry’s right. She was singing, he realized, and dancing, but he couldn’t hear the words and when she moved out of his vision he could no longer watch. Was Harry expected to perform like her? Harry didn’t know any songs and definitely didn’t know any dances. Not like what Pansy was doing anyway. 

And then a deep baritone that he remembered belonged to Blaise reached his ears and Harry still couldn’t understand the words. Blaise moved into Harry’s line of sight and was doing some particularly vulgar moves with his boa when Harry felt a haze enter his mind. The edges of his vision went fuzzy and Blaise’s distinct voice was lost to a hush. 

Harry moved, or rather lurched, towards the front of the stage, one of his hands reaching up towards the rafters. He also started to sing, “ _It’s beyond me._” Well that was accurate. He continued his stagger to the front of the stage and his left arm reached up just as he swung his right one down to keep balance. He was wearing heels. Of course. He wondered for a moment whether or not they made him look as good as Malfoy when the blond strutted around in them. He doubted it. 

“_Help me, Mommy,_” Harry pleaded as he tore off the feather boa and lifted it above his head. “_I’ll be good, you’ll see._” He had no idea what he was doing but the haze in his mind made him obedient. He made his way, tottering toward the front of the stage, opposite where Blaise ended up. 

“_Take this dream away,_” Harry cried, and considered for a moment the possibility that he did have some sort of control over what he was singing. He spun around with the boa draped over his shoulders and dropped to the ground. “_What’s this?_” he asked. “_Let’s see,_” he said as he leaned on one hand and stretched another to reach out to his leg, which was elegantly lifting into the air. “_I feel sexy._” Yeah, he didn’t have any control over what he was saying. 

As his leg reached as far as it could go, Harry started trembling. His leg feel back to the floor. “_What’s come over me?_” He asked and stood up on unsteady heels. “_Whoo!_” He shouted and lifted the boa over his head, “_Here it comes again!_” And then he stilled and his heart was hammering away in his chest and his breath was caught in his throat. 

Through the haze in his brain, he heard Ginny singing, but he couldn’t see her. She only sang for a minute, and then he heard a beat of silence followed by… trumpets? Yes, definitely trumpets. 

Harry couldn’t see what was happening, but he would bet his broom Malfoy was being introduced to the empty auditorium by the fanfare. And then the blond’s rich voice called out across the stage, “_What ever happened to Fleur Delacour? That delicate satin draped frame… As it clung to her thigh, How I started to cry ‘cause I wanted to be dressed just the same._”

There was a shift in the simple music then, and Harry could feel Malfoy’s words easing the haze in his mind. “_Give yourself over to absolute pleasure,_” the man purred. “_Swim the warm waters of sins of the flesh._” 

The next words felt like they were being whispered to Harry, Malfoy’s hot breath on the shell of his ear. “_Erotic nightmares beyond any measure, and sensual daydreams to treasure forever._” He knew that Malfoy was nowhere near him, and he had an overwhelming desire to be close to him. 

“_Can’t you just see it?_” Malfoy’s voice rang out across the empty hall. “_Whoa, ho, ho!_”

Then he yelled “Oh!” and Harry heard a splash, but that seemed impossible. 

Malfoy’s voice drifted out to meet Harry once more. “_Don’t dream it, be it._” It was like a command. “_Don’t dream it, be it._” Harry shuddered but couldn’t move. “_Don’t dream it, be it._” He wanted to be next to Malfoy. “_Don’t dream it, be it._” 

And then something snapped and Harry could move once more. He turned on wobbly legs and took in the sight of Malfoy. He was floating on a ring in a small pool in the center of the stage, behind where Harry had originally started. His pale hair was plastered to his forehead, and his head was flung back, displaying the length of his neck. Harry’s eyes roamed over his cinched waist and the wet, clinging silk knickers that barely covered him. 

Harry joined in when he sang again, “_Don’t dream it, be it._” He took a few steps towards the pool. “_Don’t dream it, be it._” He was closer now and he was aware that the others were following him, but he only had eyes for Malfoy. “_Don’t dream it, be it._” He was on the edge of the pool. “_Don’t dream it, be it._” 

Harry stepped off the side and fell feet-first into cold water. 

\---

Harry sat straight up in his bed in the Hospital Wing, his heart beating against his ribcage in a wild rhythm. 

_I'm not supposed to be having dreams_, he thought, as he remembered Malfoy floating in that pool, his pale, wet skin shining under the stage lights. Harry remembered how badly he wanted to be close to him, to touch him. There was an ache in his chest at the thought. 

But that was utter nonsense is what it was. Harry had always _hated_ Malfoy. And then after years of animosity, all it took was a few absurd dreams of Malfoy strutting around in some knickers and now Harry couldn't think of the git without his heart racing and his stomach filling with butterflies? It was all so impossible. Malfoy was working for Voldemort! What was Harry supposed to do about that? Just ask him to stop? 

Well, that actually didn’t sound like a bad place to start. Harry wondered for a moment if anyone had ever given Malfoy the option to leave. And besides that, this was Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake. He’d been handling Malfoy for years. He could figure this out. Deal with Malfoy? _Not a problem_. 

A plan, then. He just needed a plan. Unfortunately, asking Hermione was out of the question. So, his usual plan wouldn’t work. That left him with what he had in his school bag and no idea how to even begin a conversation with Malfoy. He sighed and let his head fall into his hands. Harry was best in person, he knew, so he’d have to get Malfoy to meet him somewhere… 

With sudden inspiration, Harry swung his legs out of his uncomfortable bed and padded over to his school bag. He pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill, and ink before returning to bed. A note. That was simple enough. 

Harry swallowed past the lump in his throat. What would he even say? 

_Dear Malfoy, I had a dream that you sucked me off and now I can’t stop thinking about you. Also, please consider not doing whatever you’re doing in the Room of Requirement for Voldemort. Thanks ever so much, Potter _

So that wasn’t it. 

_Hey Malfoy, stop being such a prat and leave Voldemort and your family behind so we can put our differences aside and become friends and maybe even lovers at some point in the near future. Yours, Potter_

Lovers? What? 

_Draco - Let me help you. You shouldn’t have to do this on your own. There are other ways to live. You don’t have to be alone. Harry _

Okay so maybe this was impossible. 

_Meet me in the Trophy Room. Midnight. _

Oh. Merlin, could it really be that simple? Of course there was always the chance that Malfoy wouldn’t show up and it wouldn’t be the first time, either. But what if he did? Harry might be able to talk some sense into Malfoy. This could work. 

The Invisibility Cloak whispered around Harry’s ankles as he put one ratty trainer in front of the other. He was sweating under the cloak, his whole body tense while his mind stumbled over what he would say to Malfoy. Harry knew he would show up. He had a good feeling. 

His dreams had stopped after the night he spent in the Hospital Wing but his thoughts were all of Malfoy. He had hoped that he would forget about the prat over the weekend, that maybe Harry would be the one to stand Malfoy up this time. But Malfoy was quickly becoming the only thing on Harry’s mind, which Harry was sure Hermione would tell him wasn't new.

Harry rolled his eyes under his cloak as he made his way towards the Trophy Room on Monday night after he slipped the note into Malfoy’s bag during Potions. He was pretty sure that Malfoy saw him do it, which kind of ruined the whole not signing it thing he did, but it was done and that’s all that mattered. Besides, he thought Malfoy would show up. He’d had a good feeling. But he couldn’t bring himself to look at the Marauder’s Map.

Now his heart was in his throat as he rounded the corner and slowly, slowly made his way to the always-open doors of the Trophy Room. The light from the torches mingled with the moonlight pouring in from the large windows but, still, shadows formed in the spaces between the cabinets and cases. Harry squinted into the darkness and sighed. It was empty.

Malfoy didn’t show. Harry scoffed. Of course Malfoy didn’t show. It was _fucking Malfoy_. The person that hated Harry from the second he’d spurned Malfoy’s offer of friendship, the person who had been trying to curse and hex him since they were children. The same person that Harry couldn’t stop thinking about. 

Something bitter rose up in Harry and he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak in frustration. This was his only plan. He didn’t know what else to do. 

Someone sighed in the darkness. “I knew it was you, Potter.” 

Harry started and spun around. Malfoy was standing in front of one of the smaller trophy cases, his lips in a thin line and his grey eyes shining silver in the moonlight. 

“Malfoy,” Harry whispered, noticing the wand in Malfoy's hand. “You came.”

“What do you want from me, Potter?” asked Malfoy. Harry didn’t know how to answer his question. He wanted to say everything and he wanted to say nothing but neither were quite right. His mind couldn’t focus on anything outside of the heavy bags under Malfoy’s eyes and the way his hair hung limply against his forehead. He looked exhausted. “What do you want?” he growled, tightening his grip on his wand. 

This was so stupid. This was Draco Malfoy, there was no way in hell he would ever do anything Harry wanted. Harry watched as his lips curled into a sneer. He was running out of time, wasn’t he?

Malfoy turned towards the open door without another word. 

“Wait,” Harry hissed. “Stop, Malfoy.” He surged forward, making too much noise but not caring. This was his only chance. Probably. “Please, stay.” 

Malfoy didn’t stop, so Harry reached out and grabbed his wrist. It was thin and bony and made Harry’s stomach plummet through the floor. 

“Let go of me,” snarled Malfoy as he swung around to face Harry, wrenching his arm away. "This was a waste of my time." 

"It doesn't have to be," Harry said, having no idea how he would make good on that promise, but Malfoy was still facing him. He wasn't leaving. He was chewing on his lip instead and Harry stared. 

Malfoy opened his mouth but before he could say anything Harry did the only thing he could think of, the only thing that had been on his mind for days. He reached out and grabbed Malfoy by the front of his robes and pulled him forward into Harry's chest. Malfoy gasped when Harry kissed him. 

It was rough and harsh but Malfoy's lips were soft and warm, even as he stilled, his body going rigid. When Malfoy didn’t respond, Harry panicked and pulled back. He didn’t know what he expected, but that reaction was certainly not what he hoped for. 

"What the fuck, Potter?" Malfoy spat, rage lighting his eyes. He shoved Harry back, and he stumbled into a display case, cracking his elbow against the glass. 

"Look, Malfoy, I'm sorry." Harry swallowed hard, his eyes flicking back and forth between Malfoy's hard stare and his mouth. Harry wanted more. His hands were trembling and his nerves were on fire. "I just, you just-"

"What kind of a prank is this?" Malfoy demanded taking a threatening step toward Harry. He didn't raise his wand. 

"It's not." 

Malfoy scoffed. 

Harry stumbled over his words. "I just, for a long time, you are- were..." He sighed and ran a shaking hand through his hair. "I wanted that. And I'm sorry if you didn't." With the admission a weight had been lifted from Harry's chest. He could breathe for the first time in what felt like _weeks_ despite everything that was about to go wrong. 

Malfoy was perfectly still under Harry's gaze. His mouth was agape and his hand still gripped his wand, but he wasn't moving. Harry wasn't sure if he was even breathing. "Malfoy, I shouldn't have done that-" 

"Shut up."

“Wha-” Harry started, but Malfoy’s sudden movement cut him off. In a moment Malfoy was in front of him again. Another breath and his lips were on Harry’s, and Harry’s thoughts stuttered to a halt. 

It was tentative, like he couldn’t believe it was happening either, and Harry grabbed his waist as much for reassurance as for balance. He took a step closer, needing to close the distance between them. This was real. It wasn’t a dream.

Then Malfoy’s tongue slid across his lips and into his mouth, and suddenly something was blooming in Harry’s chest, thundering through his veins. He couldn’t get enough. He felt like he would never be able to get enough and that was absurd because it was Malfoy.

Malfoy broke the kiss and shoved Harry back against the display case. He pinned Harry against the cool glass with a hand on his hip. The touch made Harry’s skin burn and he wanted to lose the layers of fabric between them. He wanted to feel Malfoy. He wanted so much. 

Then Malfoy was kissing him again, moving his mouth against Harry’s with a desperation that Harry felt in his bones. This was better than anything he could ever dream up because Malfoy was warm and real and in his arms. It was absolutely mad, but Harry didn’t want it to end. He was afraid of what would happen if it did.

So he wrapped his arms around Malfoy and hoped against reason and all of their prior history that the Slytherin would oblige him. Harry was surprised when he did. 

Malfoy's wand clattered to the floor when he decided to run his fingers through Harry's messy hair instead. Harry smiled against his lips and lost himself in the feel of Malfoy's fingertips on his scalp and his hand pushing into his waist with that same desperation that drove their kiss, that same desperation that made Harry feel too large for the glorified closet they were standing in, like he should scream and laugh to rid himself of the energy. But none of that was as important as the man in front of him and the quiet sounds he was making. 

Naturally, Harry was put out when Malfoy pulled away. When he looked at Malfoy, it looked like he might break, his brows furrowed in confusion and his eyes wide and searching. But as quickly as it had come, the expression faded from Malfoy's face. He opened his mouth and then closed it. He swallowed thickly. And then he nodded, just once, like he was answering some unspoken question before bending down and picking up his wand and taking a few small steps back. 

His cheeks were dusted pink and his lips were kiss-bruised, and Harry couldn't help but smile. But here was Malfoy, his eyes on the ground, muscles taut, breathing heavily, and all Harry could do was stand there and stare. It was typical, really, Harry dumbstruck by his own gratuitous luck. The sudden space between them was too much. He took a quick step toward Malfoy and then another. Malfoy didn’t move. 

Harry kissed him again, this time slow and soft and full of the promise of another, of a next time. Malfoy whimpered when it was over and the color in his cheeks deepened. 

"Potter" was all he said. It sounded like a question but was meant as a dismissal, Harry knew. 

He responded in kind, "Malfoy." And then he was gone in a shuffle of feet and rustle of robes. The smile disappeared from Harry's face as fast as Malfoy vanished. But they hadn't hexed or cursed each other so it was all a win in Harry's mind. In fact, it was so much a good thing that Harry had to double back to retrieve his Invisibility Cloak, he was so distracted by the memory of Malfoy's lips on his own.

The distraction hounded him for days, and he couldn't keep Malfoy out of his thoughts. Or his dreams. He was everywhere and now that Harry had had a taste, he was aching and anxious for more. 

So, when a mysterious note appeared in his Potions book a week and a half later demanding in a neat and handsome script that Harry meet the mystery person in the Trophy Room later that night, it sent a thrill through him. He would be there, without a doubt, the promise of having Malfoy in his arms again was too tempting. 

Harry shivered in anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.
> 
> If you did enjoy it, stay tuned for the fic I'm currently working on, which includes Auror Harry and Unspeakable Draco and an illicit potions ring. It's A LOT longer than this (the outline right now is 33 chapters) and I'll be posting on a weekly schedule starting soon-ish. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! :)


End file.
